


smiles we found along the way

by JaMills



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adults also being dumb, Children being dumb, F/M, Family Feels, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I'm just very weak for them, Internalized Homophobia, Late 1960s until modern times, Lilia and Yakov pratically adopted every skater in the last fifty years, Minor Character Death, Original Characters - Freeform, lots of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-11 15:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaMills/pseuds/JaMills
Summary: Because having children doesn't mean you won't have a divorce.(Or, five times Lilia and Yakov acted as parents and one time they had an actual child.)





	1. Melaniya Rybak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy, guys. These will be really short and will feature LOTS of OCs, that are in some way related to the canon characters, especially the Russian Squad. Also, I needed to give Lilia and Yakov a real child otherwise I'd die. These two will be my end.
> 
> The first chap happens on 1967, with Lilia being 18 and Yakov, 21 (yep, let me be the special snowflake that won't headcanon them with a six-years age gap, please)
> 
> Hope you like it!!

 

 

  
"Again. Your flip landing was wobbly." Yakov said as soon as the girl got into her ending position.

  
"But it's the third time already!" Their 10-Year-Old Novice promise cried from the center of the ice.

 

"Do you want a medal or not?" He asked without missing a beat. "Again, Petrovna. If it looks at least half pretty, we can stop."

 

The girl sighed soundly, but went back to her skating nonetheless. Kids these days... He'd get twenty laps around the rink if he complained so much at that age.

 

"Say it again how Lana was the easiest Novice to coach." Lilia said beside him, they both close to the rink wall watching the young skater's training. Maybe the ballerina was holding back a laugh so to not annoy the boy even more. "It sounded so smart coming from your mouth. I almost believed you."

  
"She _is_ the easiest to coach." He grumbled, eyes never leaving the slim form of his sort-of student. Coach Matveyevich wouldn't let him take over coaching before his retirement, but once in a while he'd work with the children. Today, he was kind of being punished, anyway. "I would never pick Kovalev on a Friday afternoon. I'd rather dance the Mazurka with your boyfriend on the Red Square than deal with that brat."

 

"Well, that'd surely be a sight." She smiled at the thought. Yasha never got along with any of her dates. "You're always digging up your own grave, Yakov. Just relax and teach the girl how to fix her jumps. You asked for it."

  
"Yeah, I asked to miss practice to see my friend's debut on the Bolshoi." He nodded, still not looking at her. "Totally my fault."

  
"It is." She agreed with amusement. It's not like Lilia begged for him to come see her, anyway. He went on his own account and now they're stuck playing babysitter on ice. (Yep, she included herself on it because it was always fun to see Yakov losing his hair over the little ones. She bet he'd be bald before the forties.)

 

Lilia wasn't one for technical knowledge of skating, but even she noticed there was something missing on Melaniya's program. The girl had been hopping around Lilia asking to learn a pirouette since the dancer herself met Yakov. Her usually cheerful and bright skating style was subdued this time.

  
When Lana was finished, Yakov was quiet, but motioned to her leave the ice. She looked disappointed on herself.

  
"Is there something wrong?" Lilia asked as soon as the girl was close enough to hear. "You look too... stiff. The program needs more flow. I've seen you doing better."

 

Lana looked like she was bitting the inside of her cheek, mulling over which excuse she could give this time. Coach Vasilievna could be scary sometimes, but she was really nice once you knew her well. She wouldn't be so mad, right?

 

"...I hate the music." She said, in the end.

 

The two adults blinked in silence at the comment until Yakov sighed.

  
"We talked about it, Lana Petrovna. Tchaikovsky is a classic."

 

"But the song is too... frilly! And sweet! I'm tired of it."

 

"You're ten, Lana." Lilia said matter-of-fact. "'Sweet' and 'frilly' are the only things that work for you. It's not a bad thing."

  
"The boys get all the cool stuff." She said crossing her arms with a pout. If only she could skate to something from Khachaturian...

 

Now, how do you console a child without smashing the patriarchy and bringing rebellion to the rink?

  
"We can think something better for next season." Yakov tried something more reasonable. "It's too late to change the music now, but I promise I'll talk to Coach and we can get some Prokofiev or anything less cutesy for you. Sounds good?"

  
No, it didn't, but she knew there was little that could've been done.

 

"I also want to change my dress." Lana added, seeing the moment as a good time to her requests. "I want it dark purple and with a cape."

 

In the years to come, Melaniya wouldn't be the last skater to wish for a dark gothic style, but she was the first. It still made Lilia chuckle. Lana would look like a spooky muffing, at least.

  
"We can think about that." The older skater said grinning a little at the suggestion. "You have a ten minutes break, starting now. Then we'll go through this routine again, until you get that flip right and we can go home. I'm too hungry to think and Coach Vasilievna must be, as well."

  
"Are you two living together already?!" Lana asked with glee in her eyes, always one for romance and love stories. These two were like a very slow fairy tale for her. Too slow.

  
"We're not even dating, Lana Petrovna." Lilia answered calmly. Would it be too cruel to say she had another boyfriend? "But gossip won't take you to the podium. You should go back to training."

 

"You heard her, soldier. Go there and show you deserve that cape." Yakov gave her a light push and she went back to the center with a ruff.

  
"The kids still think we should date." Lilia thought aloud. "It's been four years. Got any idea?"

 

"Maybe we should give them what they want." The skater mindlessly scribbled something on his clipboard, probably to avoid looking the girl in the eye. "They might calm down, then."

 

"You're growing too bold, Yakov." Lilia said in low warning tone, not maliciously. She could barely hide the small blush on her cheeks at the older's remarks. "Be careful with your words. They can get you in trouble with Yulian."

 

"Will you tell him?" He asked without a worry. He knew the truth, they both did.

 

"You're walking on thin ice." The girl still tried to put herself on a safe zone, not coming too close to the cliff.

 

He smiled, a shit-eating grin that she knew too well to ignore the real meaning. Yakov wasn't even a bit afraid of where he stepped on.

  
"I'm used to the ice, Lilushka." He shrugged, finally doing his work on watching Lana skate gracefully in front of them. "I know you are, too."

 

She wasn't sure of what he meant, or maybe was pretending to not understand. The truth is that things have been too foggy between them since her graduation months ago. Their friendship was turning into something the girl wasn't sure she was ready for. Maybe the ice was too thin for her.

 

Well, those were thoughts for another day. Lilia was being a coach now.

 

She'd never admit to be a little soft for all those kids.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melaniya is Georgi's mother! Guess they have similar taste in clothes :P
> 
> In my hc's Lilia is much closer to skating than we can see in the anime and have been Yakov's friend since she was 14, so there're plenty of ice stories to tell. Lana here is part of the one and only generation that would call her "coach", as well as see her on the ice. The next ones will just refer her as a choreographer.
> 
> Also there's no cheating in this story!! Lilia was very loyal to her bf. These two are just... complicated.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you had fun <3~~


	2. Anfisa Nikiforova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh, now things get dark. Really quickly.  
> Warnings for internalized homophobia, disappearance and implied character death. I'm really sorry, this is one of my favorite characters, in the end...  
> This chap is set in 1982!

"Coach~" The girl skated over to the rink wall, abandoning her compulsory figures to annoy the older man. "What are you doing?"  
  


"I'm working, Anfisa." Yakov answered without looking up from his notes. He had five training schedules to reorganize and wasn't in the mood to lose time. "You should be, too. Go back to your training."

 

"Figures are boring." She said pushing back her platinum bangs. "Can I skip it and go to the studio?"

 

"No, your dance classes are in two hours. Now you need to skate." Nikiforova could be a pain when she wanted to, but he wouldn't give in.  
  


"But Lidochka is there now!" She argued.

 

"And _that's_ why I put you and Navachine on a different schedule. You're both too distracting for Lidya and won't work right together."  
  


"It's because we love her!" Anfisa smiled brightly when talking about her girlfriend. "Love inspires all of us, coach. I think we'd be much better if she was close to us. Actually, you can put Milan on a another schedule, he gets too clingy and it annoys me."  
  


"I'll think about that." He wouldn't, to be fair.  
  


Anfisa still wasn't going back to her figures. She was silent and that wasn't very normal for her. The girl wanted to talk.  
  
  


"Coach, do you think girls will be able to skate in pairs one day?" Anfisa asked in a quiet voice, hands fumbling with her gloves out of distraction.   
  
  


Yakov couldn't avoid looking at her, completely giving up on his papers. There were times the kids needed to talk and it's his job to listen. Maybe he couldn't help, but to show he was at their side helped.  
  


"I don't know, Anfisa." He answered with a sigh. "Rules are always changing. Maybe one day you and Lidya can skate together in pairs. Maybe you can even do a routine for three with Milan."  
  
  
  


The skater made a face. Sure, she had a three way relationship including Lidya and Milan (with Lidya being the light of her life and Milan being, well, the chandelier), and she cared about him a lot, but sometimes Navachine was a bit _too much_. His fashion taste had a lot to do with it.  
  
  


"He's so full of himself, that boy. He'll probably wear something full of glitter so no one can take their eyes of him." She pouted, looking down. "Well, I guess I should dream with the day I can walk down the streets holding Lidochka's hands in peace instead of some dumb pair skate."  
  


"There are no dumb dreams, Anfisa." Yakov put a gentle hand over her shoulder. "Most people won't understand, but you shouldn't feel bad for being with someone you love."  
  
  


"My parents still don't know, coach." The girl confessed, eyes a little glossy as she stared at her own hands. "My brother already hates me for whatever. What would they say if I told them the truth? What would Misha say?"

 

The thing with working with children is that you shouldn't lie. At the same time, you shouldn't break their hearts with the cold hard truth. The Nikiforovs were quite kind and loved their daughter dearly, if sending her to Moscow for training so far away from home wasn't enough proof. She still had a rocky relationship with her brother that probably wouldn't change with her coming out.

 

Yakov wanted to say that everything would be fine if she said the truth. But that would be a lie, because things could get ugly really fast. And she shouldn't hear stuff like that, it's too much for a child. She's already 18, but it's still too much. If the coach could, he'd protect her, just like he did with the other kids.

 

But sometimes, he could only help with words.

 

"I don't know what their reactions would be, kid. But I know your parents are good people and care a lot about you. You should trust them." He looked at the girl waiting for any kind of different reaction. "Don't feel pressured to do anything, though. Just know that when time comes and you need help, you have someone you can rely on. You have your girlfriend, your rinkmates, even your coach and your choreographer. You're not alone, Anfisa."

 

It wasn't the most cheerful and bright smile their Olympic hope could muster, but it was still a smile. A sign she trust his words, even with all the fear surrounding her heart.

 

"Thanks, coach. It really helped." It didn't sound like a lie, fortunately. "I'll stop pestering you now."

 

"Good." He said just as she glided over the ice back to her spot full of drawn figures on the ice.  
  
  


 

 

In 1984, Anfisa disappeared.

 

There was no body to mourn, not even a hint of her whereabouts. Yakov saw Lidya crying on Milan's shoulder, watched helplessly as his own daughter shed tears for a friend that wouldn't come back and kept quiet when Avraam Nikiforov cursed him for not taking proper care of his daughter. He was angry, he lost a child. Yakov could understand.

 

At that day, he learnt a very cruel lesson as a coach and father: sometimes, you can't protect who you love, no matter how hard you work for their safety.

 

He couldn't protect Anfisa. And maybe that's one of his biggest regrets to date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, if you bet on Anfisa being Victor's mother, you're wrong, fam. Lidya is Victor's mother and married Anfisa's brother, Mikhail. Their story is quite shaky, but I won't get in detail this time.  
> Hope you liked it! ~~


	3. Anett-Lyubov Baranovskaya-Feltsman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And one more chapter~~  
> I can say with no shame, this is my favorite OC of all time. I just have so much stuff with this girl!  
> Warning for a very little anxiety attack, but nothing too dangerous.  
> This chap starts in 1975 and jumps right to the end of 1984, so it's still close to Anfisa's disappearance. This time we see a little on how her death affected the people around her!

She was seven when they met her.

 

Light brown curls, green eyes and a slight pout to her lips whenever something didn’t go accord to her plans. The spit image of a ‘what if’, made just for them. Yakov hated ‘what ifs’.

 

Anett-Lyubov. Doubled names were odd enough in Russia, even more a half-german one. _Who_ _would_ _name_ _their_ _daughter_ _like_ _that,_ Lilia joked at the time.

 

 _I_ _would_ , Yakov wanted to say. He definetly would name his child something as cheesy as ‘Love’. He could also picture Lilia being heavily influenced by his mother on choosing a German name. They’d argue for months and solve it with an hiffen. It sounded too good to be true.

 

 The now retired skater thought all of that while watching the young girl skate slow laps around the rink on her third class. Anett was small, something not uncommon for children under foster care, but she had good balance and was fast to learn. Had a problem with ashtma, but they could work with that. He liked a good challenge once in a while.

 

 But this was not some random kid they picked out of the streets (Well, she was, but _still_ ). Anett was different. He got attached easily and her appearance and excited way of saying “I wanna dance ballet on the ice!” may have something to do it.

 

 She was so much like a possible child of them would be.

 

 This has always been a tense topic between them, one they should’ve discussed better before marriage. Maybe that’s a con of marrying so young, because you don’t think enough about what you’re committing to. They were young, stupid and in love. Well, Yakov was in love. Lilia was somewhere along the way.

 

Yakov wanted children, Lilia did not. Losing a brother in Vietnam took too much of her. All her family was in the military, but she never dealt with death before. She couldn’t risk it, to have a son only to see him waving goodbye to fight in the war. She wasn’t ready to any more losses, never would be. Her husband stopped asking altogether.

 

 And then came Anett-Lyubov, the tiny little angel that slowly made her way into their hearts. They tried not to show favoritism in the first year, but then just gave up. Anushka was a personified soft spot of Lilia and Yakov. Their students didn’t care much, Anett already had a place as the unofficial little sister of the CSKA’s team. Anfisa particularly loved to do her hair and tease her on how she’d be their #1 babysitter when Lidya had a child. His name would be Victor.

 

It’s a happy story, but with its fair share of drama inbetween. It took the Feltsmans four years to get their shit together and definetly adopt Anett, after a stressful incident involving the orphanage she lived and their methods to deal with children. Anett now had ‘Baranovskaya-Feltsman’ as a surname and ‘Yakovlevna’ as a patronymic. She had two people to refer as ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. She had a big family of figure skaters and some dancers. It’s way more than she could ask for in her dreams.

 

 Anett was a good skater, but she wasn’t one to share a podium with Anfisa and Lidya. A gold medal in Novice was easy. Seniors weren’t even half that, but she was content with the results.

 

Anfisa’s death changed a lot of things around. Their silver star was gone and seemed to take Lidya with her. The girl couldn’t keep skating with memories of her girlfriend haunting her mind. Milan couldn’t do anything to stop her. They broke up and Lidya retired at 20 years old.

 

 

With Anfisa and Lidya gone, they needed a new lead on the ladies singles. And even with a lot of female skaters on CSKA, Anett was still their biggest shot. Young, shy and with a kinda bad double Salchow. That’s Anett-Lyubov.

 

 She didn’t take it too well.

 

 

These were the first Soviet Championships without Anfisa. The year went in a blur and before they could notice, it was December. Here in Tashkent, Anett managed the incredible, if not crazy, feat of reaching third place after compulsory figures and the short program. She just needed a good long program and it’d be fine. The trip could go without any nuisances.

 

 On their way to the bleachers, where they would wait for Anett’s group to start and watch the other skaters, the girl suddenly stopped.

 

 

"I can't do this." She said in a whisper and Yakov almost didn't hear the words.

 

"What?" Lilia and Yakov both looked at her, a deep frown in the coach's face.

 

"I can't do this. I can't win this." She said louder, anxiety slowly creeping into her voice. "Anfisa should be the one skating. _Lidya_ should be in my place. I can't do this."

 

Oh, Lord, why did life love to tease him so bad?

 

The couple shared a look. They could lose some minutes if it was for Anett.

 

Getting into a random empty storage room wasn't hard for them, too used with years of panicking skaters and dancers all over Russia. Anett was already shaking and threatening to mess all the make up work her mother did.

 

" _Lyubov moya,_ please calm down." Yakov said in a gentle voice as soon as they were alone. "Why would you think that?"

 

Lilia had her arms around the girl and just didn't tread fingers through her hair because it was tightly held into a bun and tiara. She didn't look satisfied at all with her daughter's sudden breakdown.

 

"I shouldn't be here." Anett sobbed looking at her own hands. "I only managed to get third place because Anfisa and Lidya aren't competing. Pakhomova looked injured as well. It's pure luck, there's no way I can go up there without fucking everything up. I'll just embarrass CSKA even more."

 

"That has to be the stupidest shit I ever heard." The coach said without even blinking.

 

"Yakov!" Lilia scolded.

 

"Luck didn't bring you here, Anett." He said ignoring his wife. "Maybe it brought you to us, but not to that score chart. I won't lie, Anfisa and Lidya had better technique and they probably would podium tonight. But they aren't here. You're an amazing skater and among all of these girls, you deserved the points you got. No one is asking you to be as good as Anfisa, either. Just take your time."

 

"What if I don't medal?" She asked in fear. "We're running on low budget since Anfisa passed away. If I mess it up, the Army will..."

 

"Fuck the Army." It was Lilia who said it this time. "I won't say it ever again, but you heard it, Anushka. Stop caring about the money, you kids shouldn't worry about it. It's not your job to keep a whole rink working. You just need to skate."

 

"Your mother's right, dear." Yakov wiped a stray tear with his thumb while Lilia looked for some tissues in her purse. "We don't care if you get medals or not. We just want you to be happy."

 

"...Is it bad if I want to stop skating?" Anett asked with an embarrassed blush.

 

It was a dumb idea, but one she's been thinking way before the so-called 'CSKA curse'. Anett loved skating and ballet dearly, she met her parents through it. But she wasn't in the mood to keep doing it in college, or even working in the field. She wanted to try new things, meet new people. The skating world was too small in the Soviet Union.

 

"It's not, but I really hope you're not considering it right now." He smiled sadly, already mourning his daughter's presence among his students. "If you get a nice score today, they might choose you for Worlds in Tokyo. I think it'd be good for you to travel abroad."

 

"Japan is nice. Really nice." Lilia cleaning the girl's face with gentle presses of the tissue. She couldn't smudge the make up with a long program in less than an hour. "You would like it there. There are lots of good food."

 

"Is it true that we can see Mount Fuji from anywhere?" Anett asked suddenly interested. Foreign lands always got her attention.

 

"You'll know if you go there." He answered with a shrug. "I know you can do it, Anett. You just need more self-confidence. I'm not only saying it as your father, but as your coach. I also think Anfisa would be quite proud of you for defending our rink's name."

 

Anett stayed silent, mulling over those words. Back when Lana Petrovna still competed, she made, with Anfisa and Lidya, the CSKA's golden trio. The Moscow's angels. Maybe not loved as much as the Spartak's ice dancers, but they were respected. Anett wasn't an angel. The best she did in Seniors was sixth place overall on last year's championships. She wasn't used to the spotlights.

 

But if fate's given her a chance to show what she can do, she'd use it wisely. She wouldn't go to Olympics like Nikiforova, but she might as well do a good work representing her country.

 

Unlike Lidya, she wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.

 

The last thought gave the skater the last motivation she needed. Out of pure spite, Anett-Lyubov stood up and breathed deeply, even startling Lilia with the sudden movement. Looking back at her parents, she said in a determined tone:

 

"I'm taking at least bronze tonight."

 

They both sighed in relief, happy the girl managed to get out of the insecurities' bubble that suddenly trapped her. Maybe they should've payed attention to the signs earlier, but things were fine for now. Their daughter was fine.

 

Later that day, when they watched Anett getting silver at the medal ceremony, Yakov muttered to Lilia only:

 

"My little princess is growing too fast."

 

The ex-prima smiled a bit sadly. She was expecting it, Yakov being the first to regret the passing years.

 

"Don't worry, she'll still be shorter than you even after adulthood." She teased only to receive a grimace from the older one.

 

"I hope so. I don't think I'll ever live down you going from that tiny angry dancer to, well, you. It'd be too unfair if Anushka was the same." He thought aloud. "...Do you think we did anything wrong? For her to want to stop skating?"

 

"Don't take it personal, Yakov." She turned to him. "I feel you, I was the same when she refused Vaganova for skating in Seniors. Skating takes too much of someone. She just got tired earlier."

 

"Lyubov's so talented. She covers up for technical failures with good expression and artistry. Kids these days are becoming too invested in jumps and forget what the sport is about. I wouldn't be surprised if one of these days they stop with the compulsory figures." He shook his head with a sigh. He's barely forty and can already feel his hair thinning with all these changes.

 

"You'll always have a fan of classic figures right by your side, Yasha. Two, actually." She smiled as Anett posed to a picture with the other medalists.

 

Yakov didn't smile. He, of course, was happy for the girl. But seeing Anett on the podium with that bright smile and flowers in her hair only reminded him of another skater who loved commemorative photos and flower crowns as well.

 

Anett-Lyubov had everything to be a legend in Soviet figure skating. It's just a shame they needed to miss two girls for her to shine properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anett isn't related to any canon characters, I wanted to keep her a little distant from the skating world because not everything is about skating, right?  
> So, what we have until now: Anfisa dated Lidya and they were two of the great starts at their rink. When Anfisa died, Lidya couldn't deal with the loss and retired early. Anett doesn't hold ~too much~ of a grudge against her for leaving, but thinks she could've dealt with it better. Lidya's relationship with her rinkmates will only deteriorate from now on.
> 
> Hope you liked it! ~~


	4. Markus Babichev

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're here again!
> 
> I'm thankful for all the people who commented and left kudos, it makes me really happy! <3
> 
> This time, we're at 1990! And things are starting to look shaky for our couple...
> 
> Have a good read!

Yakov was a jealous father, but he wouldn't mind having Markus Babichev as his son-in-law.

 

The boy had been his student since Juniors, got along with Anett, was the quiet type and never gave them any problem. When the CSKA curse broke on, he was their hope for men's singles and did well. He got silver at 22 and just kept doing better. Yakov was proud of having him as a skater and surely liked the idea of him being part of the family.  


But things didn't always work out like he wanted to. Anett and Markus were just friends, his daughter was studying in Leningrad and four months ago Babichev politely (and maybe a little scared) asked to change coaches. He wanted to test new waters, but was very grateful to everything he learnt under Feltsman's guidance.  
  


The kids were leaving and Lilia called her husband a crybaby. He could live with that.  
  
  


But he couldn't live with bad sleep. And tonight it seemed it'd go like this.  


 

He was the only one of the two to wake up to the phone's ringing. Lilia was a heavy sleeper, after all. It's 3 AM and he's already cursing the name of whatever idiot who decided to call. Unless it was Anett, there was no reason to pester them in the middle of the night.  


 

"Hello." He grumbled as he picked the phone, eyes still fighting to being kept open.

 

" _Coach Feltsman?_ "  


 

Oh, no.  


 

"Who's this?" Yakov frowned deeply. Was that a student? What the hell happened now?  


 

 _"Coach! I-It's Markus Babichev, sir!"_  The male voice answered a little hesitating, almost unheard thanks to the background sounds of... crying?  


 

"Mark Sergeevich?" From all his skaters, that's the last one he expected a call from. "What's going on, kid? It's three in the morning."

 

 _"I... I have a daughter, sir."_  Markus answered in a hush. " _A baby daughter._ "

 

"You _what?_ " The older man asked not believing in his own ears. It's 3 AM, maybe this was just a very weird dream.  It made more sense.  


 

" _I just found out now! Now, like, two hours ago. My ex... my_ crazy _ex showed up at my doorstep with a baby and some baby stuff, said she was my child, put her in my arms and just left without a word! I'm so confused, don't know what to do, the baby won't stop crying and I just want to crawl up on a hole and die but this would leave her alone and- !_ "  


 

"Markus, stop. Inhale, four seconds, exhale. Just like a long program, please." Yakov instructed while pinching the bridge of his nose. He's getting too old for this shit. And he wasn't even fifty.  


 

It took Markus maybe three minutes to control his breathing and calm down, so the only sound coming from the phone was the child's wailing.  


 

" _Ok, I'm better now, sir_." The young man said after some time.  


 

"Good. Now, what do you need?" Yakov asked patiently. Even if he already knew what Markus needed before the boy himself, the question was still valid.  


 

" _I... I have a feeding bottle, but there's no milk left. I guess I don't know how to prepare milk for a baby, either. She just won't get quiet and I'm starting to worry! Svetlana is such a bitch, I can't believe she just left a child like this!_ "  


 

"Are you even sure this girl is yours, Babichev?"

 

 _"...No. But I admit I haven't been the most careful person, coach._ " He sounded embarrassed with the confession.  


 

"I'm not your coach anymore, kid." Yakov sighed.

 

" _But I trust you and Madam Baranovskaya with my life! If I called home now, my grandma in Odessa would just yell at me at how irresponsible I've been!_ "

 

 _I'm on the verge of yelling at you for being irresponsible, as well_ , it was what the coach wanted to say, but contented himself with:

 

"Are you still on the same address?"

 

_"Yes, sir."_

 

"Good, I'm on my way. You kids are stupid, so don't drop the baby until I show up."

 

" _Oh... T-Thanks, coach! Thanks a lot! You're the best!!_ "

 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Wait until I get there." He dismissed it quickly, eager to let go of that phone and do something useful.

 

After finishing the call, Yakov needed a few moments to organize his thoughts. He had no responsibility with Markus. Hell, he had no responsibility with _any_  of his students if one these things happened. He wasn't their father, for god's sake.

 

But he cared like one. And this sucks.

 

"Fucking brats never listen to me." He mumbled annoyed on his way to their room.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Lilia ended up going with him when he explained why he was going out at that hour. It's really amazing how she managed to fit at least six swear words in one sentence while changing her clothes for something more fitting for a scolding.That's what happens when she can't sleep properly.  


 

Poor Markus didn't expect his former choreographer to be there as well. Yakov wondered if he'd cry again as Lilia made a very long complaint about "kids that gush about doing a quad but can't even use a condom." The boy had his face the same shade as his dark red hair when she finished.  


 

The baby slept after having her bottle and making sure every human in the apartment was stressed enough. It was already morning by then and Babichev never felt so grateful for hearing nothing. Just then he actually took a look at his said daughter. Babies are so tiny. He felt like anything could hurt her and just the thought sent him in panic. How could Svetlana be so heartless?  


 

Markus told himself he'd think properly when things settled down and he wasn't so tired, but he already came to a conclusion as he watched the little one sleeping on a bundle of pillows on his couch.  


 

"I'm keeping her." The skater said with confidence.  


 

Lilia was nodding of on a chair, so only Yakov heard him completely. He didn't look surprised.  


 

"I expected that. And won't judge you." The coach said as he stared at the younger man. "But you need a plan, Markus. Raising a child is not easy, even less on your own."

 

"I guess I'll stop early with the skating." He shrugged, not really minding the upcoming change. "And grandma should help me with Odette while I'm competing."  


 

"You're naming your daughter after a swan?" Lilia asked skeptical while momentarily awake.  


 

"I think it's pretty." Markus said with a small smile, hands adjusting his glasses that have been a little crooked since all this mess started. "My long program is a 'Swan Lake' compilation, after all. You choreographed it, ma'am."  


 

"I know." She frowned at a sudden thought. "The Championships are in three days, Babichev. You're supposed to be in Leningrad tomorrow."  


 

His smile disappeared as he realized what she meant.

 

"Holy shit..."

 

"'Holy shit' indeed." Yakov said with a sigh. "I was expecting this, too. What are you going to do with this child? You can't take care of her while competing."  


 

"I know." Markus held his head between his hands, anxiety slowly creeping back again. "I suppose I should call someone to look after her, but I don't know anybody. And she's too young, I don't want to hand her over to a random babysitter."  


 

He looked up, eyes uncertain.  


 

"Coach, do you think I should withdraw?"  


 

The three of them sat in silence, mulling over those words. They knew what withdrawing meant at this point. It meant one less medal, one less source of income, one less chance to be called abroad. Politics were bad enough. Considering Markus had an extra mouth to feed, that was risky. He shouldn't let go of these championships.  


 

Maybe she was too tired or drunk over melatonin, but Lilia had a simple solution. It had to be the worst idea she had since that one party in Davos which she and Yakov agreed to never talk about again. But it was a way and the only one she could think of at the moment.  


 

"We can take care of her, Markus." She said simply, receiving questioning looks from both of them. Yakov looked the most weirded out of the two.  


 

"Lilia, what the..."

 

"It's okay." The choreographer sounded pretty sure of herself. "Yakov can send some assistants with the skaters to Leningrad and I take a week off on the Bolshoi's classes. We call a babysitter or even Melaniya to give us some tips, because even if we took care of you children for so long, we never dealt with infants. We'll make it work, but you can't miss this event, Markus. It's too important and media will also be a pain when they find out about you being a single father."  


 

"I haven't even thought about that." The redhead said with a grimace. "I don't want to bother you anymore. This seems too much."  


 

"You already fucked up my sleep, Babichev." Lilia said without missing a beat. You know she's pissed when there's actual swearing on the line. "I won't have it back. The least you can do is go there and get us a medal. I don't care if we don't work with you anymore, there's at least ten years of ballet in this body that _I_  taught you. So, please, stop being stubborn and let us help you."  


 

Markus blinked in atonishment, taken back by his former teacher's words. It was true. No matter how many times he changed coaches or rinks, he was educated on the Baranovskaya-Feltsman method. Power. Beauty. Passion. He was grateful for every little thing he learnt from them, but hearing it now...  


 

"I don't think I'll ever manage to thank you two for helping me this much..." The young man muttered feeling his cheeks heat once again.  


 

This time, Lilia smiled. Kids are so silly, thinking everything is about paying back and being thankful.  


 

"You don't need to, Mark. You really don't."

 

They don't even realize their smile is the only thing parents are aiming for.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

As they predicted, it was a really shitty idea. There's nothing more embarrassing than two grown adults (whose daughter is already in college) tripping over themselves to take care of a child. Melaniya laughed at Yakov when he asked how many spoons of baby formula are supposed to go on a feeding bottle. _Goddamned Melaniya_. The coach remembered teasing the woman about her missing milk teeth back in the 1960s. Just look at how tables have turned.

 

 

Even with that domestic nightmare, they managed to do a good work. Odette was quite simple to deal with once you knew her quirks. If all babies were like her, they could even say it was easy to take care of one.  


 

It made them think, silently, of how things would've been if they had a child of their own.  
  


"The kids are having kids." Lilia said more to herself as they watched Odette sleep peacefully after wrecking havoc on bath time.  


 

"You said the same when Georgi was born." Yakov reminded her, also looking at the little girl with crossed arms.  


 

"It's the truth. One after one, now, they'll marry and have children of their own. You heard of Navachine, right? His wife is pregnant, too." She sounded a little distant as she listed the names on her head. First Melaniya, then Milan, now Markus. Which leaves them with...

 

"Next must be Anushka." He didn't sound too happy at the prospect. "My girl is too young for this, so we might wait some fifteen years, at best."

 

"Fifteen?" Lilia looked at him with amusement. "You want her to marry at 37?"  


 

"Sounds perfectly fine to me." He shrugged.

 

"I married you when I was 19, Yakov."

 

"Because your father liked me a lot." The older smirked at the memories. "I'm not easy to impress. My future in-law must be a really fine young man, otherwise Lyubov won't marry."  


 

"You're dumb." She said without force, eyes still a little lost in thought. "We're getting old, Yasha."  


 

"So? Everyone gets old."  


 

"...Don't you feel like we missed something along the way?" The woman asked with a frown, looking directly at him now.  


 

Yakov raised an eyebrow at that. He had an answer, but it didn't sound very kind on his head. They had missed students, missed friends, missed opportunities. Lots of them. But that's how life goes. You learn with your mistakes and deal with the consequences. You get happy with what you win and get over what you lost.  


 

"What did you miss, Lilia?" He asked in a neutral, but interested tone, curious to what would her answer be to the question.  


 

She didn't answer, though. Instead, her frown deepened as if catching on the slight threat of that sentence.  


 

"Just thinking." Lilia muttered in mild annoyment as she left the room to occupy herself on the kitchen.  


 

Yakov realized too late that, instead of asking what was missing, he should've helped her to get it back.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #LetLiliaSleep2018  
> This one was pretty easy to guess, right?  
> Odette is Mila's older sister! Markus married Mila's mother when Odette was around five, and two years later came Mila. Only our favorite redhead got interested in skating.
> 
> Hope you liked it! ~~


End file.
